Raw Skin and Exposed Nerves
by Tragically Hopeless
Summary: "I don't get it." Cassie sighed. "The Tim you found, he's not our Tim. Batman says-" "No, I get that," Conner interjected with a scowl. "What I don't get is why Batman took him to Gotham. We could take care of him here. It's not like coming from another universe changes things that much."


I posted this over on AO3 over a month ago and only just realized I hadn't posted it here as well. Ah, oh well, it's getting posted now. This is the second part of Parts of Each Other but it should still make sense if you don't want to go read that first, even if I do very much recommend doing just that. A third part will likely be posted in a couple days now and there's also a brief continuation of the last scene over on my tumblr, with a link in my profile.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Raw Skin and Exposed Nerves**

* * *

Conner hovered twenty feet above the ground as he scanned the area for enemies and allies alike. His chest visibly moved with each breath, in and out and in again. The fight had been long and difficult. Far more difficult than it should have been for some no-name fanatic with magic.

There was one… enemy in the middle of the rubble. The word didn't quite fit but he'd come up with something better when they sent in their reports. But one enemy, bruised and slightly more dangerous than they'd expected but unconscious and staying that way for the immediate future.

Right beside him was Cassie. She was rubbing at her shoulder and scowling down at the dude whose ass they most definitely kicked into next week. The last punch had been hers and completely badass in its execution. Anyone who saw it would have swooned, him included, even if they'd technically moved past that phase of their relationship. Platonic best friends who occasionally beat each other up worked much better for them anyways. So, Cassie, a bit on the sore side but conscious and all around queen as always.

Then there was Kid Flash, cheering as he rushed through the pieces of that last building Conner had gone flying through. He couldn't hear the excited babble from where he was but - a blur of yellow and red crossed the street once then twice and then Bart was standing beside Cassie with a popsicle in one hand. Conner didn't have the slightest idea where it came from. He didn't think he wanted to know, honestly. Bart, conscious and consuming enough sugar for the entire team.

Hunting down Rose took a bit longer. It usually did, even with the orange and silver of her suit. But when he managed it, she was leaning against a large piece of what was probably once a cement wall. It could have been a particularly large chunk of exploded sidewalk though. Her glare was impressive, enough to make Conner want to look away even though they'd been teammates on and off for years now. One of her swords was abandoned not too far away as she grasped at her side. It didn't look too bad. She… probably would have said something if it was urgent. Which meant a couple field bandages and everything would be fine. Rose, always terrifying - more so when she was bleeding, and conscious.

Raven nearly blended into the shadows of the only building on the street left standing. And she wasn't moving. Conner grimaced. There had been something about a couple of the attacks the enemy dude had used at the beginning of the fight that really set her off. Dealing with the aftermath of mental attacks had never really been his forte. Still, Raven, unconscious but probably better for it until they got back to the Tower.

Which meant the only person missing was-

Tim.

Tim who should have been standing with Cassie as he rolled his eyes at Conner. He always thought that checking up on the team after a fight was excessive. Not that it had ever stopped him before.

That couldn't be right. Robin - Red Robin, Conner reminded himself, it had been years since Tim had gone by Robin - was almost more skilled than the entire team combined. Had to be in order to survive the crazy that was Gotham. Conner scanned the area again, his frown deepening, and started to move back down the street towards where the fight had started.

Cassie glanced up as he flew overhead, her hand freezing in place on her shoulder. "Conner, where are you going? Conner!"

He grimaced and tried to ignore her.

But his concern for Tim quickly won out over his instinct to listen to her and he pushed himself a bit further to get away from her glower. The tension drained from his shoulders when she turned back towards their new enemy with a visible huff.

Conner quickly tried to remember the last time he'd seen Tim. It… hadn't been during the last half of the fight. That wasn't too surprising. Tim had picked up Batman's horrible habit of lurking in the shadows whenever he could. But there weren't too many places to hide on a mostly destroyed street in the middle of the day. Except he couldn't remember seeing Tim since their newest villain used that weird, white light. He moved faster.

All he had to do was hope Tim would be there. Conner wasn't optimistic enough to think Tim would be walking and talking on top of that. Otherwise, this wouldn't be a problem. All of the Batfamily did this thing where they thought they could keep fighting so long as they were conscious, regardless of how injured they were. He'd seen Tim collapse after a fight once and then light comment about how his ankle might sprained. It had been broken in four different places.

Superman had snorted when he complained about it later and then explained, "Red Robin is a Bat, through and through. That sort of thing is why they need us around. Otherwise they'll needlessly sacrifice themselves for the first cause that comes their way."

"I'm sure Bruce would agree with you," Ma had replied, her eyebrows raised in that way that meant she didn't actually think that at all, and Clark had flushed, embarrassed.

Still, the words had stuck with him.

They made him remember to keep an eye out for his best friend. Even if he was convinced that Tim would break into Batman's secret stash of Kryptonite if he ever found out Conner thought that. Or maybe he knew and just didn't care. Tim always seemed to see ten time more than anyone else did at any given time.

Conner slowed as he spotted the large hole in the street, his mouth set into a thin line. There didn't seem to be any sign of Tim here either. A couple pieces of orange fabric from Rose's suit were amongst the rubble but none of the red and black Kevlar from Tim's. He looked along the side streets, hoping to find any hints of where Tim went. There were already a few civilians starting to crowd in, wanting to see how much damage had been done.

Or, he realized with a flood of relief, they wanted to see Red Robin curled up in the middle of the street, unconscious.

But Tim wasn't dressed in the red and black Kevlar he'd been wearing earlier. Not even the red, green and yellow of his old Robin. Tim was dressed entirely in civilian clothes, the same combination of t-shirt and jeans that he only ever wore during downtime. Conner pushed himself closer, almost hesitant now that Tim was right here in front of him. Tim wasn't injured either. Not even the bruises from last week that had been lingering around for long enough that Conner had been worried about them. And he knew Red Robin had taken a couple hits at the very beginning of the battle, had barely stopped himself from wincing at the knowledge that Time would need ice to help with the swelling later.

Tim, unconscious and dressed in civilian clothes, with fewer injuries than Conner had ever seen on him.

Something wasn't right.

* * *

"I don't get it."

Cassie sighed. "The Tim you found, he's not _our_ Tim. Batman says-"

"No, I get _that_ ," Conner interjected with a scowl. Cassie grunted as he delivered a forceful hit to the punching bag between them but he didn't apologize. She always hit harder than he did when it was her turn to have a go. "What I don't get is why Batman took him to Gotham. We could take care of him here. It's not like coming from another universe changes things that much."

"Did you really think we'd be allowed to keep him here?"

Conner scowled at the punching bag, suddenly grateful he couldn't see the pitying look on her face. "Uh, yeah? They always act like they deserve Tim's time more than we do but he's ours just as much as he is theirs."

"You make it sound like we're divorcees with Gotham, arguing over who gets Tim on which holiday and he's been spending so much time with you lately, it would be nice if we could see him for a weekend." Cassie stepped out from behind the punching bag to look at him, exasperated. He at least had the decency to feel a bit ashamed, even though it really did feel like Gotham was the other parent in their relationship with Tim. "Besides, we don't know what this Tim has lived through. Maybe he was a Titan, maybe he never even became Robin. And Batman is much more qualified to deal with the fallout of that than we are."

"And what about _our_ Tim?" Conner blurted out.

It was like the fragile balance they'd built up just broke apart. All that was left was the silence of the training room now that he'd finally said the words out loud and even amidst the flood of regret, Conner couldn't help the relief he felt at saying them. It had just been the big elephant in the room. The one that wasn't Beast Boy and nobody wanted to acknowledge.

The expression on Cassie's face crumbled, revealing just how not okay she was with all this, and she quickly glanced away. "I don't know, Conner. I… just really don't know.

"We should know," Conner insisted. It didn't matter if it only made the pain worse. Everything he'd been wanting to say was coming out now, regardless of whether it was wrong or right to say. Regardless of whether it hurt anyone else in the process. "Tim could be anywhere. Like, what if he went to a reality where everyone was constantly at war? That would break him. Or what if he's trapped on some Earth where he's completely alone? We need to get him back."

" _Conner_."

He opened his mouth to push forwards because there was still so much and he hadn't stopped thinking about it even once over these last few days and then he-

Stopped.

He stopped and really looked at Cassie. She was visibly holding back tears, blinking a bit too fast to be convincing. Because this hurt her just as much as it hurt him. She wanted Tim back just as much as he did. It was really a miracle she hadn't decked him and stormed upstairs to find someone else to help her take her mind off of things. That was why they'd come down here in the first place, whether they'd admitted it or not.

They'd needed the comfort. Couldn't just sit around, feeling Tim's absence with every breath they took. They needed to know that they could deal with this without the glue that kept the team together. Without Tim.

It looked like they weren't doing such a great job of that so far.

"Shit," Conner swore and he stepped forward to pull Cassie into his arms. Her pretense of not crying dropped as he rested his chin on her shoulder and she flung her arms around him. He could feel the burn of tears at the back of his own eyes, his vision blurring even as he attempted to blink them back. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up, you big lug. Just shut up and let me pretend for five minutes that this is going to be like every other time things go horribly wrong. The times where they work themselves out at the end."

"It won't be. Tim's not here to deal with our shit," Conner forced out. It felt a bit like someone had put a vice around his chest. There was no denying that he was gripping onto Cassie for his own sake just as much as his own.

Being fine without Tim was like trying to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the peanut butter. In theory, it worked but there was no getting past the fact that it tasted like shit.

Cassie laughed, dark and strangled, and countered, "How's he going to deal with his shit without us?"

* * *

Conner followed Alfred down the fall, feeling a bit like he was walking through the secret wing of a building he wasn't even supposed to be in in the first place. Which was kinda the case. People weren't supposed to just show up to Wayne Manor, no without an invitation at the very least. But even when he was supposed to be here, even when he showed up with Tim, he never felt quite right being here.

The feeling was worse than usual this time.

That probably had something to do with the calm and collected way Alfred had answered the front door, like he'd been just waiting for Conner to arrive. Nevermind that he hadn't told anything he was coming here in the first place. Just up and left without a word about an hour ago. He hadn't even known where he was headed, if he was being honest with himself.

No, it wasn't that. Conner knew it wasn't that. It was just easier to pretend he was feeling awkward about unexpectedly showing up at his best friend's family home because it was an actual capital-M Manor with an actual butler and three dining rooms. Especially when the truth was so unbelievable, even for him. It wasn't everyday that he visited a version of his best friend from another another reality who he'd never really met and was currently in some sort of magic-induced coma.

"Master Conner?" Alfred spoke up, dryly. "We're here."

Conner forcibly pulled himself from his thoughts. "Right, of course. Thanks. Are you going to-"

"I will let you have your privacy while visiting Master Timothy, of course. I… assume these last few weeks have been just as difficult for you as they've been for us."

Conner nodded, helplessly. There was really nothing he could say to that. It was true. The last few weeks had sucked to the highest degree. If this was what Tim had been going through when Conner died that one time, when everyone else around him had died, then, well, there were a few things he understood a lot better now. Thing he hadn't wanted to understand as well as he did.

Some of that emotion must have shown through because Alfred briefly touched his shoulder before continuing on down the hall, disappearing with a quick turn. Bats. None of them could be satisfied unless they acted with as much dramatics as they possibly could.

But now there was no more ignoring Tim's bedroom door. Conner stared at it, steeling himself for what was on the other side. And then he took in a deep breath and went inside, a swarm of butterflies taking over his stomach.

The door pulled closed behind him as he froze in place.

This wasn't what he'd expected.

He'd known, when he came here that Tim hadn't woken up yet. It had something to do with the shock of cross-reality travel or something like that. Batman sent daily reports through the communications system, brief and impersonal, but all of the Titans had been surviving off of them since the fight. Every day at seven PM, everyone would gather in the living room or the kitchen to find out if anything had changed. But the reports hadn't prepared him for this.

Tim looked like he was on his deathbed.

His face was too pale, an offshade of sickly. And this version of Tim was somehow even smaller than his Tim. There wasn't the lean muscles in his arms and shoulders to make up for his thin frame, and it made him look impossibly small lying in the middle of the large bed. Hell, the only sign he was still alive was the almost unnoticeable rise and fall of his chest. Without it, Conner wasn't quite sure what he'd think. Just that it wouldn't have been anything good.

Conner sat down in the chair pushed up beside the bed and continued to stare. It was like if he looked long and hard enough, Tim would suddenly wake up. Tim would wake up and he'd look like a person again and everything in his life would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

But it was helping somehow.

He felt more centered than he had in a long time.

It had been impossible to think of this Tim as entirely separate from his best friend, the one who was just outside of his reach. The one who nobody could figure out how to get back. Looking at this Tim helped him break that down, helped him sort through the mess that came from knowing multiple versions of the same person. This Tim didn't have the long, thin scar along his collarbone than his Tim had from some fight or another. Instead, there was a pale line following his cheekbone. And Conner didn't know the story behind that.

They were different. And those differences probably expanded past the physical. Maybe this Tim didn't struggle with self-control or getting to sleep at a normal time or not consuming an entire pot of strong coffee in the span of half an hour. Conner held back a strangled laugh. He doubted it. It didn't matter what reality Tim was from, those things were almost certainly a constant. Tim just wouldn't be Tim without them.

The door creaked as someone opened it, even though Conner knew anyone here could have managed to enter the room without a noise.

"Hey Superboy," Nightwing greeted him as he moved to stand at the other side of Tim's bed. "I have to admit, I thought you'd show up sooner."

"It's Conner," he interjected, then stopped and frowned. "I didn't know I was invited."

Nightwing hummed, noncommittally. "I'll call you Conner if you call me Dick. Deal? And it wasn't so much of an invitation as an expectation. we all know how close you and Tim are."

"Why would that change things? This _isn't Tim._ "

"Just because he isn't our Tim, doesn't mean he isn't Tim. Take it from someone with some experience with other realities. He could have his own memories of you that are just as important to him as your memories of our Tim are to you."

The bit of acceptance he'd started to reach with all this shattered.

The chair was roughly pushed back as he stood up. He just couldn't take this. He couldn't be here. An itch sat right underneath his skin, an itch to take to the skies and forget about everything. He didn't know what he'd meant to accomplish by coming here. Maybe he wanted to see his best. Maybe he needed to feel like he was doing something. But the person lying in that bed wasn't his best friend and so, there wasn't a point in being here anymore.

"I have to go," he muttered and the door slammed behind him.

* * *

"You know, you aren't the visitor I thought I'd get today," the man on the bed commented dully. "I mean, you're not the first but it seemed like it was time for the guy in blue and black - what's his name, Nightwing? He hasn't come around for a few days."

"Shut up," Conner snapped.

The man raised his eyebrows, purposely looking around the small, bare cell. "What exactly are you going to do? There's nothing that I haven't already told one of the others. I. Don't. Know. What. Happened."

Conner took a step forward and the man - and he was just a man here without his suit and magic, someone whose name Conner couldn't remember, didn't _want_ to remember - lifted his hands, placating. A thrill ran through him. This man should be afraid. He deserved to be afraid, should recognize that being in Belle Reve wouldn't protect him.

Superheroes didn't just show up in Belle Reve without permission. It was Waller's prison through and through. But superheroes didn't just get sent into other realities either, not without some way of getting them back, so Waller had let him in.

(Rather, she took one look at him, snorted and then let him in without a single protest. Conner was fairly certain she underestimated just how much damage he could do at the moment. Or maybe she just thought it was better him than Batman. He really didn't want to think about the option that he was far from the most dangerous thing in this prison.)

"Look," the man said, slowly. As if saying something could make Tim come back from who knew where. "I really don't know what happened. My powers don't work like that, not usually. Red Robin should have appeared somewhere in Europe. Maybe Siberia. They're not so good with accuracy, but they don't make people disappear like that. Which is why I didn't use them in our fight after that. Killing people is one thing but some things are worse than dying, you know?"

His TTK surged forward as he hit the wall and Conner had the man up against the wall, a good couple feet off the ground and the cement cracking behind him.

He didn't care.

Tim was gone. Tim was gone and if this guy didn't know anything then there was almost no hope that he'd get him back. Conner needed him to feel what that meant. How it made him hurt and this was the easiest way to make him feel how he was feeling and-

And the man was choking, his breaths coming in small gasps. Something must have been broken.

This wasn't what Tim would have wanted. Not just because Batman was big on the no-killing thing but because Tim wouldn't want him to hurt someone needlessly for his sake, no matter how much they deserved it. Conner wanted to screw it all. Screw any part of him that cared what Tim would have thought. Tim wasn't here. Not now, maybe never again. Screw what everyone else though. They didn't, couldn't understand. Screw this man and his out-of-whack magic.

Screw the world for taking Tim away from him in the first place.

Conner let him drop back onto the bed where he gasped for breath that wasn't coming. He definitely had broken something. Yet he couldn't quite bring himself to care as he turned around and left.

* * *

Time moved strangely after that.

There was a clear distinction in his mind between now and before Tim had been taken from them. Conner never quite managed to stop thinking about it. Sometimes he'd stay awake until the sun started to rise. Sometimes he'd sleep for over fourteen hours at once. Sometimes he went to school. Most of the time he didn't.

Somehow he still managed to graduate.

That was probably why Conner was here in the first place.

Him and Tim had been in the same grade, after all, before Tim dropped out to deal with his mess of a life. Namely things that had something to do with Batman being dead but not really dead and Conner was glad he'd missed most of that. In a perfect world though, him and Tim would have graduated at the same time. Well, not a perfect world. Conner probably would have been one of the only people at Tim's convocation ceremony. Bruce probably wouldn't have showed up and none of Tim's family was still alive to be there in the first place.

Even if Bruce showed up, it wouldn't have been as Bruce or even Batman. It would have been as Brucie Wayne, the mask he wore turning him into an entirely different person.

Clark had been at his, beaming in the front row with Ma and Pa.

And now Conner was sitting in front of Tim's dad's grave in a Gotham graveyard in the middle of the night. Forget the consequences. Not just the inevitability of Batman showing up to give him the whole no metas in Gotham spiel or how Cassie would chew him out later for going without her. Also the part where he felt really shitting being out here without Tim. Without even any news about where Tim was.

He'd stopped listening to the reports Batman sent them after his visit to Belle Reve. It was difficult enough to know that there was nothing else he could do to get Tim back. Hearing about another version of Tim lying unconscious in Wayne Manor was just too much for him to handle.

Conner was tired of reminding himself that Tim was in another reality, instead of a phone call or text message away.

"Hi."

He startled, glancing upwards and - stopped.

Tim stood a few feet away, his face flushed from the cool evening breeze and drowning in the thin windbreaker he wore. Tim who was alive. Tim who was awake and not unconscious in some bed.

 _Not his Tim_.

The familiar anger reared its head. Why did Tim think it was okay to show up here? This wasn't his dad, he probably had his own dad back in his own reality and - how hadn't Conner known that he was awake? Sure, he'd stopped listening to the reports. But someone would have mentioned if Tim woke up. If nothing else, Cassie would have forced the knowledge on him, even if he tried to tell her he didn't want to know. That was how these things worked, so he didn't accidentally run into an alternate version of Tim in a graveyard. At his dad's grave.

Actually, if she knew it would turn out like this, Cassie would have kept it from him on purpose, all for the sake of trying to get him to talk about his feelings. She'd been talking about that a lot lately.

"Hi," he replied after a moment.

It felt like a better thing to say then what was going through his mind.

Somehow his words must have been mistaken as permission for Tim to sit down beside him because that was what he did, knees brought in close to his chest. There was careful distance maintained between them but still it felt like nothing. "You're… Superboy, right?"

"Conner Kent," he countered because he could. "But also Superboy, yeah. Shouldn't you know that?"

Tim hummed. "There wasn't a Superboy on my Earth. Or a Superman, for that matter. I only recognized you because Nightwing took it upon himself to tell me everything about the life the me from this Earth had."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Conner stared at the tombstone, his shoulders hunched as he resisted the urge to bury his face into his knees. He hadn't even realized how much he'd hoped this Tim would hold onto some memories of his Conner, just like Cassie and Dick had pointed out. But without a Clark, of course there wasn't a him. It was like someone had just carved a hole into his chest and told him he had to live like this for the rest of his life.

And then there was his Tim. Just what was he getting himself into without some version of Conner around to make sure he didn't get himself killed? Tim was brilliant but if getting himself hurt was considered enough of a risk then he'd do it. Wouldn't so much as question it.

"I'm sorry," Tim breathed out as the silence dragged on.

He turned to stare at Tim, uncomprehending. "Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"You wanted me to be someone else, didn't you?" Conner flinched but Tim pushed forwards, not giving up his inch before he gained a mile. "You wanted me to be him but I'm not. I never beat up criminals or jumped off of rooftops in my spare time. The opposite, really. And I don't have any memories of you or any of the other Titans."

"I-" Conner cut himself off and frowned.

Whether he liked it or not, that sounded a lot like when his best friend got himself stuck in the same cycle of self-deprecation. The same tendency to beat himself up over the little things, just in slightly different packaging. And for what it was worth, Tim was probably the first person who made him want to listen when people started talking about his Tim instead of storm off to where he could ignore it all for a bit longer. Hell, this Tim probably would have jumped off rooftops and beat up criminals if someone gave him half a chance.

Tim grimaced, not looking at Conner. "Don't worry about it, okay? At least you're upfront about it. Everyone eles just tiptoes around it and pretends I'm exactly what they expected me to be. I'm still trying to figure out what that is exactly."

"That sucks," Conner commented, empathetically. To his surprise, he really did mean it. For more reasons than that the Batfamily was obsessive at the best of time and these last few months had only made it worse. Even if he'd put money on Damian having already confronted Tim about… well, not being Tim. "So, no Superman?"

Tim smiled at him and Conner found he couldn't do anything more than stare. It made him want to never stop staring.

He wanted Tim to never stop smiling.

"No Superman," Tim confirmed. And then his eyes narrowed into a familiar look, the intense concentration that meant Conner was going to be bombarded with all of his different theories as to why that was the case. "Actually, I think-"

* * *

"Conner."

Conner glanced over at Clark before turning letting his head drop back down. As if anyone else would have visited him on top of the Daily Planet building in the middle of the day. Or any time of the day.

"Hey Clark," he responded. "What's up? I think they have the robbery over on Sullivan handled."

"Actually, I just wanted to know if you'd like to go for a fly with me."

He blinked and then grinned as the words registered properly. It had been a while since he last went flying with Clark. Far too long, in his opinion. He quickly sat up and pushed himself off of the large globe with an easy push of his TTK. Clark laughed as Conner gave him an easy smirk and shot off towards the city limits without a word.

The spring air was cool against his cheeks, his TTK pulled inwards just enough so that he could really feel it against his skin, through his hair. The feeling would never get old. Conner would never let it get old, he loved the thrill of it all too much. The freedom it gave him. A glimpse of blue and red made him push himself further, higher, faster, a familiar chill moving through him as he broke through the clouds.

Try and see the old man catch up with him now.

His grin, wide and carefree, grew when Conner spotted Clark between the clouds, flying directly beneath him. A moment passed and then another before Conner dived down. The edge of Superman's cape fluttered through his fingers, a near miss. But it was definitely closer than the last time they did this. Conner had missed by a good foot or two that time, which meant he was either getting better with his powers-

Or Clark was taking it easy on him. And Conner could only think of one reason why Clark would do that and that was the situation with Tim.

But there was no way he was going to give up just like that, not yet, and he pushed himself that bit further. Clark wasn't even pay attention to him anymore, had slowed down a bit. Probably because he expected Conner to give in and talk it out. It wouldn't have been the first time Clark invited him to go flying when he really just thought Conner needed to talk through some problem or another.

Instead, he swerved upwards again, grabbing onto Clark's arm as he passed the Man of Steel. The clouds parted around them as he expanded his TTK, using it to his advantage to propel Clark further into the sky, further away from the ground until the air grew thinner around them.

Then he let go, pulling his TTK back inwards, and watched the shocked look on Clark's face as he dove down beside the older man. It didn't take more than a moment or two for Clark to gain control again. They both continued downwards, flying rather than falling and spirally around each other in an easy manner that Conner had never achieved with anyone else. Had really only just achieved with Clark, given their years and years of operating on different frequencies. They both dropped out of it easily enough, Clark with an extra flourish that Conner would have to remember to try later. There was nothing but miles of farmland around them, Metropolis a small dot off in the distance.

"That was some great work!" Clark called to him over the sound of the wind.

Conner preened from the praise. "It was pretty awesome, wasn't it? Cassie and I have been practicing but she's still figuring out how to spiral into the fall like you do."

"I'm sure you'll be doing flips around each other before the year is up," Clark admitted, falling into place beside him as they continued moving at a lazier pace. "I've never met two people more determined. Or more enthusiastic about flying."

"Yeah, well, we're-"

Conner stopped himself, the words catching in the back of his throat before they could escape.

Clark slowed to match the sudden change in Conner's pace. "You're?"

"It's just… a lot of the maneuvers we were planning to learn revolved around Tim, you know? Like, sometimes the villain of the week can fly too and he hates being stuck on the ground while the rest of us fight, even if he normally finds a way around it. So, we wanted to figure out a way for him to be up in the air with us. Only without affecting us too much or making him feel like he's a burden on us."

"Conner-"

He swooped down again before he could hear what Clark had to say. He didn't want the pity, had never wanted it in any capacity or situation. It was better when him and Cassie were flying together, even if she wasn't as comfortable with it as Clark was. They would silently agree not to practice the maneuvers they created to include Tim. Not because Tim needed to be there - he'd never had the chance to even find out about them - but because there wasn't a point anymore.

But Clark wasn't going to let this go. Conner already knew that before the Man of Steel fell in line beside him again. He wasn't even saying anything about how Conner was letting his fingers run along the top of the wheat.

Normally there was at least a brief comment about not making more work for the farmers.

"I heard you went to Belle Reve last month," Clark said finally.

Conner tensed. "Did Batman tell you that?"

"Amanda Waller did, actually," Clark corrected. "She thought it was important for me to know that you were acting without orders or supervision. She didn't say who you went to visit but I think I can make a good guess."

Conner slowed to a stop, his mouth set into a frown, and stared at Clark. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say? If it had been you who got whisked off to another reality or Bruce or Diana, they wouldn't have been able to keep me out. That's what happens when something happens to someone you care a lot about. Besides, you're not the only one who paid him a visit."

"You-"

"I went with Bruce immediately after he was transferred to Belle Reve to make sure Bruce didn't kill him," Clark elaborated. "Just like I've gone with him on visits to interrogate half of the magic users on Earth these past couple months."

"I didn't think you cared that much about Tim," Conner admitted quietly, finding a sudden interest in the wheat below them. They'd come to a complete stop now as they hovered over the fields.

Clark reached over to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. It made Conner suddenly feel impossibly small and vulnerable but, at the moment, he was okay with that. "Of course I care. Even if he wasn't so important to you and Bruce, Tim is a wonderful young man who cares a lot about the people around him. Neither of them deserve this."

"Thanks, Clark." And Conner really meant it. Tim deserved to be able to live his life, just like he deserved as much praise as Conner could force on him. "Uh, did Batman find anything? I mean, the other Tim really isn't that bad but, like you said, neither of them really deserve to be sucked into other realities without warning."

"He thinks he's onto something but he's been saying that since the beginning, so I really don't know." Clark pulled away, peering closely at Conner. "The other Tim?"

His cheeks flushed at the memory of Tim. Their meeting in the Gotham graveyard really hadn't been anything - he didn't even know why that particular though would have occurred to him, except maybe the evaluating look Clark was giving him. They'd just talked for a few hours and then exchanged phone numbers.

And maybe talked a couple more times over the phone since then, a steady stream of text messages between them.

"We… talked a couple days ago. Nothing major. I just went to put some flowers of Tim's dad's grave because, you know, our Tim isn't around to do it and he was there and so, we talked," Conner explained.

Clark smiled at him. "You talked?"

"Yeah, we did. Did you know his universe doesn't have a Superman? He thinks that Krypton never, uh, died like it did here. And the Red Hood never died, so Tim never became Robin. It just kinda went from the Red Hood into the current Robin, I think."

* * *

Given the circumstances of the last few times Conner came to Gotham, this time seemed almost off putting in how ordinary it was. Hell, he was just sitting in a diner. None of the times he'd been in Gotham really measured up to this in terms of ordinary and not ordinary. He was half-expecting someone to come crashing through the window. And if that wasn't weird enough, Batman couldn't even hunt him down for being here, not without exposing that Conner Kent was Superboy. There wasn't a single shield on his person.

Conner knew the exact moment Tim stepped into the diner despite sitting with his back to the door. There was something to the way the door opened, a particular sound in the background that he recognized as Tim's heartbeat after a couple moments. He could even recognize the tone Tim used as he talked to the waitress, undoubtedly smiling at her. The same smile he used when he wanted to come across as a bit airheaded.

It bothered him a bit that he knew these things.

It bothered him because it wasn't fair. Conner wanted them to get to know each other together, not this weird thing where he already knew half of Tim's tells. And Tim didn't really know any of his.

"Hey," Tim greeted as he slid into the seat opposite him.

Conner pushed the thoughts from his mind and impulsively grinned at Tim. "Hey, what's up?"

"A… lot. It's why I asked you to some here." Tim paused as he opened up his menu, staring down at it like it was some sort of life line. "I hope that's okay. I know you and _him_ were close. I didn't exactly know that the last time we saw each other."

"This better not be the point where you apologize for being here instead of him. Again," Conner commented as casually as he could manage. "Because that's the same sort of shit he would try and pull, and if I didn't put up with it with him, then I'm definitely not going to put up with it with you. It's not your fault some douchebag lost control of his power. We just have to learn to live with it."

"I-"

Conner gave him a sharp look and forced himself to ignore his fascination with the way the tips of Tim's ears turned a light pink.

"Okay, maybe I was going to do that. But it wasn't why I asked you here."

"Well, don't beat around the bush, dude. The longer you put it off, the harder it'll be to say. At least, that's what Ma says."

Their conversation dropped for a moment as the waitress came up to their table. It only took a few moments for them to give their orders but they didn't say anything when she turned back around. It wasn't until she disappeared back around the counter that Conner turned his gaze back towards Tim.

His face had morphed into that look of intense concentration again. Conner resisted a smile. Mostly because if Tim was getting that worked up about all of this then it must be something important to him. More important than just apologizing for shit he had no control over. It was the sort of look that made Conner want to listen to everything he had to say. It didn't matter if it was brilliant or not. Or even so perfectly articulated that most people would be blindsided by it.

It was just that Tim would be one saying it.

Which, okay, Conner couldn't deny that that was a weird thing to notice about someone he considered to be his friend. But brilliant and perfectly articulated was a Tim-thing. It wouldn't have come as a surprise to him if he'd taken down a criminal or five just by talking at them, and yeah, he'd appreciated that before.

He just hadn't felt butterflies-in-stomach, completely enraptured by it with his Tim.

Once or twice Tim looked like he was moments away from speaking up. Then he would reconsider whatever was going through that mind of his again. Conner carefully kept quiet. Saying anything would just throw Tim off and they'd start the whole process over again. Except this time it would be less waiting for Tim to reorganize his thoughts and more shouting about whatever it was that was bothering him.

Then his jaw set and Conner knew he was moments away from the big reveal. Or as close to the big reveal as they could get.

"What was he like?" Tim finally said.

Conner blinked. "You mean, Tim?"

Tim nodded.

"That's what you've been trying to ask me this whole time?" he asked, incredulous. There was a brief flash of hesitation across Tim's face and Conner sighed. "No, of course it isn't. Let me guess, this is just some sort of weird lead-in into whatever you actually want to talk about?'

Tim scowled at him, his foot shooting out to connect with Conner's knee. "It isn't weird, you asshole. That's how a conversation naturally progresses."

"Yeah, sure, when you're just having a regular conversation. Not when you're trying to come out and say something specific like you are right now. Otherwise we're just going to keep talking circles around the subject instead of actually talking about it," Conner pointed out.

"Just answer the question."

He rolled his eyes. "You sure you haven't heard enough about him already? I thought Dick wouldn't stop talking about him. Dude, whatever, I'll talk, just stop glaring at me. Tim was Tim. A bit like you but not entirely? It's weird and you guys share some of the strangest things. I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"Some details would be nice. How would you feel if I described someone as kind of like you but not really?" Tim bitched.

"Well, I'm sure _they'd_ feel flattered. More people should be like me. I'm pretty amazing."

Conner didn't hold back his smile as Tim started to silently glower at him but cautiously prepared his TTK for an attack. Particularly an attack that came in the form of the small packets of sugar or the plastic containers of cream being launched at his face.

But rather than continue to glare at him, Tim's face smoothed out, an almost-smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch. "You _are_ amazing. But that doesn't help me at the moment, unfortunately. So, how about we save that conversation for another day?"

"I-" Conner cut himself off and mentally cursed the flush that had risen in his cheeks. He wasn't entirely certain if Tim was being serious - it was impossible to really tell - but, well, _what if he was being serious_. "Yeah, we can do that. We can… definitely do that. But back to Tim. The not-you Tim. I mean, he was my best friend and all that. Um, he was there for me most of the time. At least until now, obviously. But I guess you know most of that. He was really smart, like genius-level smart. I don't know how he figured out half of the cases he worked on but sometimes he would just do the stupidest shit. Don't let the others fool you, he was kind of a mess a lot of the time. And he never seemed to understand that there were things out there that could kill him. But we loved him anyways."

Tim paused as Conner came to a halting stop and then after a moment, "You keep saying was instead of is."

Conner swallowed. "Yeah, I do."

"Do you really think-"

"That he's dead? Not for a second. Tim could survive everything your world has to throw at him and then some. But, well, it's easier to think of it that way, you know? It makes me feel like I'm not doing anything wrong by not chasing after dead ends in order to get him back."

They boy fell silent, the air between them thick and charged.

Conner hadn't even realized he thought that way until the words had come out. An easy explanation to a difficult problem, one he hadn't even let himself think about before. He'd thought about what the Tim of this Earth was doing in another reality. Just not the part about not getting him back again.

But even if they somehow did manage to get Tim back now, after months and months of trying without getting any results, there would be something else that Conner would have to move on from. Another Tim to mourn. A Tim who was currently sitting across him in a shitty Gotham diner. He was a little less muscular, a little more likely to burst into passionate explanations of things he noticed, a little more prone to smiling. Not just a wide, double-edged smirk but a real smile. Seeing it simultaneously tore him to shreds and made him want to smile back.

"I asked you to come here so I could try and convince you that I'm not as great as you seem to think I am," Tim admitted, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Conner recoiled. "What?"

"Back..." Tim ducked his head down. "Back on my Earth, things weren't the same as they are here-"

"I know," he interrupted, frowning. "We talked about all that, remember?"

"I do."

"Then what do you mean? Tim, you're amazing. Sure, you're not _him_ but nobody's ever going to be him. Besides, I don't want some carbon copy of my best friend. Like, I know he cared - I think he cared a lot more than I ever realized, sometimes - but he never really knew how to show it, you know?" Conner argued, leaning forward as if that would somehow get his point across more easily.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath for a few moments before letting it out in a slow exhale. "Not really, no."

"Look at me." Conner waited until Tim opened his eyes again and then offered him a small smile. "Tim - this Earth's Tim - closed himself off from a lot of things. Which meant he showed he cared by creating contingency plans and then contingency plans for those contingency plans, especially after his dad died. I don't even know half of the stuff he had planned out. And I wasn't there for a lot of the shit that happened to him. I don't like to think about it, but the two of us hadn't been okay for a long time and we really didn't know how to make it better."

A soft, distressed noise left the back of Tim's throat.

Conner pushed forward. "But you're not him. Fuck, do you know the last time he _smiled_ at me? I do. It was over a year ago now. You smiled at me four or five times the last time we talked. You're brilliant and I know how much you care but you don't keep yourself awake for days at a time, going over cold cases."

"So, what? I'm just the new and improved version of him, just minus all of the memories he had of you?"

" _No_."

Tim stared, eyes wide, but he didn't say a word.

They were really just a huge mess.

"You're entirely different people. Yes, you have things in common and don't think that I haven't noticed how you refuse to talk about your own life. But it's those differences between you guys that I like, just as much as I like the similarities," Conner admitted, pouring as much emotion as he possibly could in his voice, and then he flushed, his voice dropping. "And he never made me feel like this. Like I could take on the world with him beside me, yeah. But not like the rest of the world just doesn't matter when I'm around you."

"Oh."

And then Timsmiled, like he couldn't quite help himself.

* * *

The thing about being a superhero was really having to deal with the supervillains. Like right now. At least, Conner was fairly certain this was a supervillain. When he had to deal with regular criminals, he didn't end up tied to the wall of the abandoned warehouse he'd been checking out. With vines. Vines that _moved_.

Not unless Metropolis had started growing some really freaky plants.

But that didn't really make much sense. Not when Conner could think of one person in particular who would tie him to a warehouse wall with moving vines. It had just been a while since the last time Ivy tracked him down like this. He really should figure out how she did it sometime or ask someone else to do it for him.

Then again. This _was_ Ivy. There was a low-level flare of warmth underneath his skin, vaguely distracting. Nowhere near as distracting as Ivy herself and Conner held nothing back as he took in her wide hips and narrow waist, the red of her lips. She didn't waste any time in crossing the distance between them, the vines tightening around him, and then kissed him, as simply as that.

Shit.

Conner tried to hold his breath - and then his concentration faltered and it was already too late. It had already been bad enough that the vines had been covered in Ivy's pollen. If they hadn't been, Conner would have used his TTK to break free half an hour ago. But every time he tried to focus, tried to get it to push the vines aside, his mind flickered back towards that distracting warm. Lazy mornings with Cassie or the build-up when he just started to jerk off or - looking at Tim with his pretty steel-blue eyes and those long, thin fingers and-

"You haven't come out to play for a while," Ivy purred.

"That because you haven't - oh, shit." Conner frowned. "You have been making trouble, haven't you?"

She smiled at him. "Of course I have been. You just haven't come around to Gotham to see. A shame, you're one of my favourite play toys, Superboy."

"I'm… flattered?"

Dealing with supervillains was one thing but the thing about Ivy, really, was that she was all of his fantasies tied up into one. Restraints, check. An amazing ass, check. A smirk that took his breath away, check. The ability to turn his mind towards sex every time he looked at them, double and triple checked. There was a reason why Tim - the other Tim, the _not here_ Tim - had pulled him out of this very situation with a scowl and a lecture about staying away from beautiful, red haired women more than once.

That time at the charity event really hadn't been his fault though. There had been at least five other women who kissed him on the cheek before Ivy came around and he'd thought it was a good thing. Let them flirt and they'd give more money or something like that. And after that, there had been so many people around that it was impossible to pick her apart from the hundreds of civilians.

That excuse hadn't really stood up.

At least, not like other things were currently standing up.

Ivy laughed, an edge to the sound that always drew him in. "It seems like I should be the flattered one. But your absence in my life isn't why I called today."

"You called?"

There was something indulging in her smile now and he was actually quite proud of himself for noticing that right now. Especially given that he couldn't remember if there had been a call or not. He knew he'd been doing something before he came here but beyond that, it was all a blur.

"You see," Ivy continued, easily, "Harley and I have this _bet_ , regarding the location of the lost Robin."

"Robin?" Conner echoed.

The name rung a couple bells in his mind. Made him think of long legs and dark messy hair and a constant stream of _wantwantwant_. Which was weird because he didn't usually go for dark hair.

"Red Robin," she corrected, amused. "About this high, tends to scowl a lot. He doesn't like the two of us spending time together, which is a shame. But I don't doubt you're more than capable of imagining the fun the three of us could have together."

Oh.

She was talking about Tim.

Tim who always looked at him as if Conner might break if he looked for too long. Tim who was anything and everything. Tim who should be here right now, pressed up against him instead of these vines because try as they might, they didn't replace a warm body. Anything so long as Conner could kiss him, feel him, fuck him. His limbs struggled against their restraints but getting out wasn't his intention. He just needed the friction against his skin, needed to be able to feel _something_.

This really would be so much better if Tim was here. Conner couldn't wait anymore. He'd done nothing but wait since - since he didn't really know when. He just needed Tim here with him, needed the other's skin against his own and then have that feeling last forever.

Ivy sighed. "His location, Superboy. You just made me lose a different bet, the least you could do is tell me where Red Robin has been spending his time these days. No one's seen him out in the field for months."

The words cut through the haze like a sharp knife.

That wasn't the Tim he'd thought she was talking about.

"He never left the field," he replied, hesitant.

"Sorry, sexy, but I'm sure someone would have mentioned if Red Robin died. It doesn't matter what side of the fence you play on, news like that gets around."

Conner rolled his eyes, taking advantage of the brief respite. "That's because he didn't die. That was just… _magic_ ," he tried to explain, exasperated. "Something went wrong, he disappeared, and we got a new Tim. Who I really wish were here right now. In leather. Fuck, that would be so hot."

"So, you're saying that Red Robin was switched out for a different version? And you weren't with the little lost Robin before this new version came around?"

"Yes?"

Ivy beamed and leaned in again, ignoring the way his lips chased after hers as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You're the best, Superboy. I'll make sure someone knows to pick you up in the next hour or so. Be grateful, I would have made you stay out here like this all night if you didn't just win me two bets with Harley."

* * *

"So, this is the Tower."

Tim glanced over at him, raising a slim eyebrow. There was a hint of a smirk on his face, the smug little bastard he was. Conner had seen that look almost countless times over the past half an hour. Each time had marked another incident of Tim being a sassy, gorgeous jerk.

" _This_ is the Tower then." Tim motioned towards the living room, completely empty of people. "And not everything else you've shown me so far?"

"You know what? You're a dick," Conner muttered.

"I am?"

Conner didn't have to be looking at him to know Tim looked far too innocent. Like anyone would mistake Tim Drake as someone resembling innocent, at least not when it came to being a vindictive asshole. It went against the laws of nature. Gravity was a thing and if Tim was around when things went sideways in a way that worked out well for him, it was almost certainly because of him. Sometimes even when he wasn't around.

It was just that nobody outside of the superhero business would ever believe it. Conner had seen the press releases these last few months. They were too taken in by that charming smile to question a word that came out of his mouth.

Not that Conner wasn't taken in by it.

He was just immune to some of its side effects.

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, you definitely are. The biggest dick of them all. I don't know how people miss it."

"It's probably because they've never seen it."

It was said with such nonchalance that Conner almost missed it, the words bringing his mind to a halting stop when he finally made sense of them. Maybe it wouldn't have been that bad if they weren't accompanied by a heavy look. The one that never failed to make him flush. Because he knew exactly what Tim was thinking about, because Tim had outlined just what it meant over their last phone call. He'd been forced to hang up a lot sooner than he intended to deal with certain things.

That wasn't something too uncommon these last couple months. Conner would barely get into the hang of joking around with Tim and then he would make an innuendo like that, with that look on his face, and Conner's mind would just shut off. There were a thousand different things he'd wanted to do and the stint with Ivy had made it worse. None of them were platonic in nature.

Except they'd only actually met up a few times since they'd gone to the diner. And each of those times had been in public places where Conner couldn't act on his desires, even if Tim made it clear they were returned. The only plus was that they'd gotten to know each other. Maybe better than Conner had known the other Tim.

Still, Conner had almost thought he was doing something wrong until Tim phoned him last night and asked if he could visit the Tower.

"Tim?"

Conner froze at the sound of Cassie's voice. It felt like someone had just ripped out his stomach and prepared it on a platter for her to eat at dinner tonight. She sounded chocked, grief bubbling up to the surface just from that single syllable.

Maybe there was something he should have done before he agreed to show Tim the Tower.

Such as making sure everyone was comfortable with Tim being here. Conner wouldn't have been. Not before that night in the graveyard. It felt like it had been ages since the thought of Tim, the Tim who hadn't been _his_ Tim, had made him furious to the point where also made him sick to his stomach. And he knew from that single glance in his direction that she was going to serve his ass to him later, once Tim left again. He'd let her do it too, he noted with a twinge of resignation, his insides churning. As if he could have stopped her in the first place.

"Hey," Tim said, sounding far calmer than Conner felt. "Wonder Girl, right? Conner's mentioned you a few times. Apparently your right hook is swoon-worthy."

Of all the things Tim could have said.

"Cassie," she corrected, automatically. "We're not in uniform right now. It's good to know Conner's still well aware of how swoon-worthy my punches are. I think he probably needs a good reminder of just how amazing my _kicks_ are though."

Yeah.

He was done for.

That wasn't even up for debate anymore. He couldn't even avoid her without making it worse.

If anyone could hold a grudge, it was Cassie. She'd only ever been second to the Tim of their Earth and - Conner's gaze flickered towards Tim, considering. There hadn't really been any signs of holding things against people. But there hadn't been cause for it yet either. And this reality's Tim was skilled at hiding it until the time came for his perfectly crafted revenge, usually months after the fact.

Tim smiled, a small, pained gesture. "I'm sorry about showing up out of the blue. There was just something I wanted to talk to Conner about-"

"You don't get to apologize," Cassie cut him off and walked towards him with purpose in her steps. No time was wasted as she threw her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, intentionally oblivious to the way he flailed at her touch. "It's Conner who needs to apologize for not mentioning it to me before you got here."

"I didn't mean to-"

Cassie huffed. "Did that sound like an apology to you, Tim? Because it didn't sound like an apology to me."

"Cassie-"

Tim stifled a laugh.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Conner finally got out and he scowled at them.

"He's really bad at this," Tim commented and Cassie finally pulled back to grin at him. "I mean, I'd already figured out he can be a bit emotionally constipated but I didn't think it was this bad."

"You should have seen him after we broke up. For weeks all he did was sit as far away from me as physically possible while he gave me the most pitiful looks I'd ever seen from the other side of the room. You would have thought I'd killed his dog, not told him we couldn't have awkward sex anymore," Cassie told Tim in a conspiratorial whisper.

Conner quickly turned on his heel, bee-lining towards the door. "That's it, I'm leaving! I'm not talking about my sex life with you two."

They were laughing as he walked out of the living room and a hint of a smile crossed over his face. Yeah, talking about his sex life with both Cassie and Tim was beyond painful but, well, that wasn't why he left. They needed a few minutes alone.

Cassie deserved closure and she'd never get it if he was hanging around in there. Conner understood it. The need to know that they could move on even with the Tim from this Earth around. That they could be apart of this Tim's life without jeopardizing anything. Cassie and Tim had been close. Almost as close as Conner had been with Tim, even if things had never quite been the same. Closer to how his relationship with Cassie was now, actually.

Plus, maybe if he gave them this, Cassie would be a bit less likely to murder him later. It was a long shot but he was always one for wishful thinking.

Tim wandered out of the room a few minutes later, looking a bit like someone had just taken his entire perception of the world and flipped it over.

Conner knew better than to ask.

"Is she always-"

He snorted. "Yeah."

" _Damn_."

" _Yeah_."

Tim followed as he turned down the hall, moving onwards with their tour. They'd already seen most of the Tower and so there was really only one last place left for them to go. At least, not unless they took the stair to the next floor up to check on the other Tim's room.

Which definitely wasn't going to happen. Not today. Maybe not ever.

At least no one else seemed to be around. It was bad enough that Cassie had found him, now that Conner was thinking about it. If any of the others came around for a surprise visit, he might as well have signed his own death certificate. Like Rose. She wouldn't have just killed him but put his head up on a spike as a warning against future surprises.

His room was a lot tidier than it usually was. The bed was nicely made, not just his comforter pulled overtop of it haphazardly. His desk was mostly clear, just a few odds and ends that he didn't have anywhere else to put. No dirty laundry spread across the floor. More importantly, no dirty dishes on any flat surfaces. Conner stood beside his desk, suddenly uncertain of what to do with his… anything, really.

"You know," Tim mused as he sat on the edge of Conner's bed, "I wasn't really expecting this."

Conner frowned. "You weren't?"

"Well, for one, I didn't think you were capable of cleaning. For another, it's… a bit impersonal?"

"Oh." He glanced around his room, trying to see what Tim saw. It was clean, that much was for sure, but that was really only the result of an obsessive couple of hours this morning when it sunk in that _Tim was coming to visit him_. But there wasn't really anything up on the walls or any signs that a real person lived here. "To be fair, I did clean this morning. Just don't look in the closet. And I guess a lot of my stuff is still over at Ma and Pa's? I mean, I've technically moved out now and I want to bring more stuff over here. I just haven't yet."

And now Tim was staring at him. He was staring and Conner didn't know what to do about it other than awkwardly lean against his desk. It felt like he should be doing something. At least something with his hands because right now they were just at his sides. Conner grabbed onto the edge of his desk.

It didn't really help.

"Like, there's a bunch of pictures I haven't brought over yet," he rushed, desperate to fill the silence. "Ma put them in frames for me. This place won't really be home until they're here."

Tim stilled. "Pictures of him?"

"A couple of them are, yeah. And a few are of Cassie too."

"Both of your exes then."

"Both of my-"

Conner faltered. There was a storm hidden away in Tim's eyes and he didn't know how he'd managed to miss it. It urged him to move into Tim's orbit, the rush of emotion intense and undeniable and reciprocated. If he'd ever questioned that Tim cared for him, those questions could be thrown to the wind now.

It took a lot for him not to use his TTK as he came into contact with the side of the bed. He wanted to pull Tim in towards him in every way he possibly could. But for the moment, Conner settled for stepping between Tim's legs and his hands immediately reached towards Tim's waist. Tim was far too tense against him. Maybe this was too much, too soon. Even if it was just contact, just being pressed up against each other.

Then, just as Conner was about to pull away, he relaxed.

"Tim?" Conner murmured instead of speaking any of this out loud, his voice low. "What are you talking about?"

Tim swallowed, his gaze fixed purposely at something over Conner's shoulder. "I mean Cassie, your ex-girlfriend. And _him_ , your ex-boyfriend. Did you really think I didn't know the two of you were together?"

"Um, yeah? Because we weren't?"

"Conner," Tim muttered softly but it was far more tentative than Conner would have liked, almost on the edge of hesitant. "You don't talk about him the way most people talk about their friends. You talk about him like you worshipped him."

"I didn't _worship_ him-"

" _And_ there's no way he wasn't in love with you. Even if I didn't know about what he did after you died." Conner opened his mouth to protest again because that was different, only to close it at the sharp look Tim gave him. "There isn't a version of me that would have been able to stop themselves from loving you. It makes me wish I had a Conner Kent or Kon-El or Superboy back on my Earth."

"Tim didn't have feelings for me," Conner insisted.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Are you sure about that?"

No.

Not anymore.

It hadn't even occurred to him before. It had always been Tim and Conner, best friends. Robin and Superboy, partners. There hadn't been a point in even considering it because that was just the way things were. Tim was just the person he went to if he needed something or someone. Always. But Tim wasn't the kind of person who ignored possibilities like that.

The Tim from this reality would have at least considered it. Conner couldn't deny that, even if he wasn't around to be questioned about it. And if he'd considered it, that meant there was every chance that Tim - this Tim because this really couldn't get more confusing for him right now - was right. The question would keep hanging around in the back of his mind without a definite answer. Tim wouldn't have let something like that show. It would have been packed away, sealed into an impenetrable safe somewhere in his mind and then dropped into the ocean.

"You didn't know," Tim breathed out. His hands reached for Conner for the first time, fingers hooked into the loops in his jeans. As if this somehow made all the difference.

"To be fair, I don't really know now."

"Just… take my word for it, okay?"

"Okay."

Conner fell silent as he took the sight of Tim's face in. Whatever this revelation had meant to him, he looked far more relaxed than Conner had ever seen him. Inviting, even. His gaze flickered down to soft lips as he imagined what it would be like to kiss Tim, not for the first time. Not even for the first time today.

It was Tim who leaned forward to kiss him, short and sweet. Conner chased after his lips, the feeling, the overwhelming want to stay like that. There was no need for urgency or blood-burning passion between them. Not now, not when it was better to let this moment draw out forever.

They lingered even after Conner pulled away again, sharing their breath and taking in the feeling of just being there. Together. This felt more intimate than anything Conner had with Cassie. It wasn't even that what he'd had with Cassie wasn't real or flawed in some way. It was just that this felt like something more. Just another way that they were slowly healing each other, moving towards people who were a bit less broken together.

"I want to become a hero."

Conner opened his eyes to find steel blue staring back at him, nothing short of serious. Then he made a noise that turned from a hum into a splutter as his mind caught up with the rest of him. The grip on his waist was the only thing keeping him from pulling away entirely. "Dude, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"No, like, are you really going to do this right now? I've been thinking about this for months. Don't you want to, I don't know, enjoy the moment?"

Tim laughed and pressed in to kiss him again.

Conner sighed and pushed aside his indignation. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"Because I want to help people, like you and the rest of the Titans do," Tim elaborated. "I want to be better than I used to be. Help in ways that I couldn't before."

"I know a lot of people who would protest that," Conner finally muttered and he sat down on the bed beside Tim, silently urging him to continue.

"No one from my Gotham."

"Okay, but why do you have to be the one to do it?"

Tim stared at him and Conner let out a frustrated noise. There were so many ways he could try and argue this. That he didn't want to lose Tim the way he'd lost the Tim from this Earth. That Tim had already gone through more than enough. That Tim didn't need to take on the problems of a reality that wasn't even his own. That there were more than enough heroes around to manage things without Tim joining them, even in Gotham.

But at the end of the day, he didn't want to make any of those arguments. And not just because they were hypocritical to the nth degree. He understood what it felt like to want to help the people who needed to be helped. It was more like a need that nestled itself underneath a person's skin until it was inseparable from them, not like how they could ultimately take off their personas at the end of the day. Plus, if he was allowed to go out and fight bad guys, then Tim had every right to it too.

There might have even been a little part of Conner that missed having a partner beside him through thick and thin.

Conner reached over and intertwined their fingers together, squeezing them slightly. It was a steady weight between them, an acknowledgement that this wasn't going to change things between them. Tim squeezed back after a moment.

Things were going to be okay.

"Okay. But tell me what you used to be in your Gotham."

"Conner-"

"No, this is part of you, even if you've been pretending it doesn't exist. I want to know about it."

Tim slowly took in a deep breath and then, "I used to be an information broker."

* * *

It had been a while since they'd last handled an invasion like this one. Conner contemplated what was once a high school as he leaned against the pieces of some sort of ship. There were bits of scrap metal littering everything in sight from the field to the outdoor basketball court. Not to mention that there wasn't exactly anything left of a good third of the building as it was left in half-frozen ruins from Superman's attempt to put out the fire. The Justice League was over by the playground, getting themselves in order. Or arguing. It was hard to tell.

This was usually when he'd fly up and see who was injured, who was unconscious and who was completely fine. Except he was kinda out of breath. In the bad way. There hadn't been any Kryptonite around, at least as far as he knew. Clark looked alright though and he was more sensitive to the stuff than Conner was. It was probably just a mix of his human heritage and the stuff they'd tried to gas them with.

Meaning he'd be fine again in half an hour.

Tops.

"Superboy."

Conner jumped, quickly forcing himself back up to his feet.

He had never once managed to notice Batman before he said something.

At least he wasn't the only one who had problems noticing him though. He'd seen Bruce sneak up on Clark countless times, both while he was in the cowl and while he was Brucie Wayne. It was always hilarious to watch.

"Uh, hi?" he replied, leaning back against the scrap metal he'd appropriated.

Batman stared at him, eyes hidden behind the white lenses of his cowl. There was a frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards but he was always frowning in the suit, so Conner didn't think too much of it. "You've been spending a lot of time with Tim Drake lately."

Or maybe he should have read more into it. Panic flared in his chest. He should have guessed that this was going to happen sooner or later. Batman had probably found out that he'd started dating Tim and had come to warn him to stop. For the sake of Gotham. And maybe the world. The only way this could have been worse was if he'd been approached by Brucie rather than Batman and all the passive-aggressive threats were left to his own imagination.

Then again, both Batman and Bruce Wayne were rather horrible at showing they cared about their children.

Like the time the Tim of this reality had gotten sick about a year ago and instead of phoning to ask how he was doing, Bruce had snuck into his loft in the middle of the night. At least he'd left Tupperware containers of homemade chicken noodle soup in the fridge.

Unless this wasn't about him dating Tim at all. If Batman didn't know he was dating Tim yet than in no way was Conner going to mention it. Tim had mentioned something about wanting to tell Bruce about becoming a vigilante the last time they'd talked. Which, okay, was only a couple hours before he'd gotten the call about this but it was the only thing he could think of that was worse than Batman finding out about him and Tim. Especially because Conner had been helping him learn how to fight properly these last few weeks.

Either way, there was no holding back his suspicion. "I have been, yeah."

"I would suggest keeping your distance." Batman paused and nothing would convince Conner that it wasn't to add a flair of the dramatic to his words. "I realize you have been a great support to him these last few months. However, continuing to get close to him will only end in greater hurt when he goes back to his own reality."

Conner stopped.

That really didn't make sense. Not unless that was what Bruce had been doing these last few months and that made a bit too much sense. Already, the pieces were falling into place. How Tim hadn't really mentioned anything about Batman. Just Dick, most of the time, and Jason and Damian a couple times here and there. Never Bruce.

"Is that what you've been doing? Keeping your distance?" he asked slowly, a fire building in his stomach.

"Of course-"

"Bruce," Clark cut it and Conner hadn't even noticed him approach.

"Clark," Batman threw back.

"Everyone here knows our identities. And we've talked about this! Tim may not be your son anymore but he still needs reassurance that you'll be there for him. Unless you think that he doesn't deserve contact with other people just because this isn't the reality he was born in?"

Bruce bristled. "You've talking about this, Clark. It will be harmful for everyone involved when he goes back. To _his_ family."

Conner glanced between the Man of Steel and the Dark Knight.

They… didn't know.

He didn't know what he thought they would. It really hadn't been that long since he'd managed to get the details about Tim's life out of him and that was under very specific circumstances. Namely, while they'd been curled up in Conner's bed, the rest of the world far, far away. Tim had told him over the course of a few hours, Conner interrupting with kisses as needed to remind him that he wasn't there anymore. He could still remember the way Tim's voice had broken, how he'd managed to coax the wavering frown back into a smile.

"Have you considered that maybe going back isn't a good idea for Tim?" he asked, dangerously quiet.

"Conner-"

"No, he's going to listen to this. Because Tim's been living in that Manor for months now and he still hasn't figured out that Tim's life? It was shit. Like, case gone bad levels of shit, only constantly because he didn't have anyone to bring him out of it. And-" Conner pushed himself away from the scrap metal and stared Bruce in the eye. He'd grown a lot these last few months. They stood eye to eye now. "If you send him back, I'll make sure nobody's around to save you. Get the Tim from our reality back but the Tim we have now? He stays."

* * *

Conner stood across from Tim as he waited patiently for him to compose himself.

And got a good look at Tim's new suit.

Tim hadn't let him see it before, even though it had been ready for a couple weeks now. Pulled the card about how Conner would find out what it looked like with the rest of the team. Then had promptly distracted him with sex or food or something equally distracting until it was the last thing on his mind.

It wasn't really anything like what Red Robin had worn. Simply black pants and shirt, skin-tight and made of a heavy Kevlar. Thick, plated gloves. Conner was fairly certain the boots had steel toes, not that Tim had figured out how to use them properly yet. A plan, black domino with white lenses covering his eyes. A line of pouches along his hips with his new utility belt that Conner was willing to bet contained almost everything under the sun. No cape, which was probably the biggest point of difference between them.

And yet, there were traces of red and brown throughout the suit as well. The inside of his plated gloves were a deep red and there was brown in the fabric of his belt. Visible thread in a mix of the two colours carried on throughout the entire outfit, right down to his boots.

This wasn't just a new, practically-made suit. It was also the suit of a fledgling here, one who was still trying to figure out who he wanted to be.

Conner knew the exact moment that Tim decided to go into the room, a conference room the team had never actually used before. The nervous energy drained out of him, replaced with a steely tension, and those white lenses turned to look at him rather than the door.

"I'm ready," Tim announced.

Conner nodded and stepped inside.

The team didn't react, not outside of a gradual drop in volume. All of them were there. Cassie, Bart, Raven, Rose. Even Jaime was leaning against the back wall, his armour pulled back to reveal his face, and he didn't usually think of himself as a Titan. Of course, part of that had to do with calling an emergency weekend meeting.

Conner walked to the front of the table, Tim following behind him like a silent shadow. "Hey, as you guys have probably noticed, we have a new Titans."

He glanced towards Tim.

No kissing, not here because Tim wanted to keep his identity a secret. At least for now. But their arms brushed, just close enough to be silent reassurance.

Tim smiled. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Swallow."


End file.
